Now it is assuredly a matter of surprise that an invention so singular and novel in character, promising unheard of advantages, should not have attracted the general attention of all patrons and promoters of science. The only instance of a passing remark from a scientific source is anything but gratifying. Dr. Hook, writing to the Honourable Robert Boyle about the early part of 1667,[14] reports certain experiments with glass tubes then being carried on at Gresham College, after which he says:—“Sir R. Moray presented the Society with an engine sent them by Prince Rupert; being for raising water, such a one as, I am sure, you have seen and taken notice of in Scottus his mechanics, whose contrivance is, continually to raise water, by turning round a cylinder with a sliding board in it, included in another hollow cylinder, or barrel. The Engine has not been tried, but it will be the next Wednesday. But I find that it goes exceedingly hard with the several grating and sliding motions that it has, so that it is more likely to prove a pretty curiosity than a useful engine. But this gave an occasion for producing the definition or description of the Marquis of Worcester’s Water-commanding Engine, which is so purely romantic that it would serve one rarely to fill half a dozen pages in the History of Fortunatus his Wishing Cup. A transcript of some of the most observable passages, because I could not procure the book itself to send you, I have here enclosed, which if it should chance to perform but the least part of what is therein specified, my Lord Brereton is likely to pay £5 towards the revenue, that is to accrue thereby to the Marquis, he having wagered so much against him. I was since my return to London to see this engine, where I found Caltrop his chief engineer, to laugh at it; and as far as I was able to see it, it seemed one of the perpetual motion fallacies. Of which kind Caltrop himself, and two or three others, that I know, are labouring at this time in vain, to make, but after several ways; and nothing but costly experience will make them desist.”
The prejudices created against monopolists in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, were not without foundation, in consequence of the absurd rights conceded to patentees of imaginary inventions; amounting to the legalizing of extortion of the most unquestionable and aggravating kind, without any chance of remedy. Real inventions were few, and impositions were everywhere practised with bold effrontery. There was nothing in the public character of the Marquis of Worcester to bespeak public favour. Who could ever dream that the Earl of Glamorgan was suddenly to assume a new character? The few inventions that were regarded as wonders of art were of ancient origin, slowly perfected, and in 1663 were considered to have reached almost the acmé of perfection. Yet here was a nobleman, unheard of, except for his share in Charles the First’s design to punish his rebellious subjects with the aid of an Irish army, suddenly proposing to supersede all ancient approved and improved methods of elevating water; and to perform many other surprising mechanical feats. And not only was he an inventor, but an innovator on old custom and a monopolist, not by patent alone, but by Act of Parliament for ninety-nine years! Even Dr. Hook could not view the Marquis otherwise than by the common standard of public opinion, acknowledging that he only went to see the wondrous engine at Vauxhall “to laugh at it!” And he could even condescend to report of his fellow inventor’s labour, that,—“as far as I could see it, it seemed one of the perpetual motion fallacies.” So that its very regularity and remarkable continuity of operation were alone, considered enough to condemn it! Dr. Robert Hook was deservedly esteemed as a mathematician, and he was also distinguished for his mechanical ingenuity; but he was a man of very peculiar habits and singular disposition, being excessively jealous and cynical. This splenetic philosopher appears to have set out for Lambeth in no disposition to form a dispassionate opinion on the work of a rival inventor. A few lines of description, however meagre, would have been invaluable, whereas his cynical remark leads to the unfavourable supposition that his disingenuous statements had their influence on Boyle and other Fellows of the Royal Society, to check any further inquiry respecting the supposed mechanical marvel.
The Marquis might well allude in his Century to “the melancholy which had lately seized upon him;” his sole desire being to pay his debts and possess “a competency to live according to his birth and quality;” yet every way frustrated, month by month, year by year, even after his last ray of hope was realized in the return of the exiled sovereign. He makes slight allusion to enemies, and none to public neglect. The enemies must have existed, Papist as he was, when so late as November 1666, the King had published a declaration to banish all priests and jesuits, on pain of punishment if found in the kingdom after the middle of the next month; the public neglect, from his aristocratic sympathies, he might not choose to recognise. It is certain he had been abundantly persecuted for his political acts, and was being neglected with a degree of callousness for which it is difficult at this remote period, and in the absence of needful intelligence, to account, so as fairly to reconcile the many incongruities and inconsistencies in the statement of his devotion to Charles the First, the coolness of Charles the Second, the Marquis’s own firm clinging to a Court which used him so basely, and the utter oblivion into which his efforts fell among all classes of men esteemed patrons of art, literature and science.
Amidst plague, and intestine troubles, and surrounded with domestic calamities of the most poignant character, this great and good man, this glorious genius deceased on Wednesday, the 3rd of April, 1667. Where he died is nowhere recorded, and no incident of his latter days affords the slightest information. It is not unreasonable to suppose that he had resided at Lambeth, if not indeed at the mansion then called Faux-hall. He was conveyed with funeral solemnity from London to his barony of Raglan, in the county of Monmouth, where he was buried in the family vault within the Parish Church, on Friday the 17th of the same month, near to the body of Edward, Earl of Worcester, Lord Privy Seal, his grandfather, the following inscription being engraved on a brass plate:—
“Depositum Illustrissimi Principis Edwardi Marchionis & Comitis Wigorniæ, Comitis de Glamorgan, Baronis Herbert de Raglan, Chepstow, & Gower, nec non Serenissimo nuper Domino Regi Carolo primo, Southwalliæ Locum-tenentis: Qui obiit apud Lond. tertio die Aprilis, An. Dom. m.dc.lxvii.”
St. CADOCUS:
THE PARISH CHURCH OF RAGLAN, MONMOUTHSHIRE
EAST END VIEW AND PLAN OF RAGLAN CHURCH.
In the above view of Raglan Church, a corresponding plan is given, showing, by the letter a, that portion of the chancel beneath which is situated the family vault of the Beaufort family. The flagged area has a font in the centre, pews in one corner and at the sides, with a window at one end, and at the other a door opening to the church-yard.